


You Disarm Me

by Alexicon



Series: prompted on tumblr [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/pseuds/Alexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire needs to learn to watch his step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Disarm Me

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt on [tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com/): e/R modern au, detective!R gets stuck with a bomb and bomb squad!E has to talk him though disabling it. Established relationship or not, I don't mind!
> 
> Disclaimer: _I have no idea how to arm or disarm a bomb. Do not take this as an instruction manual._

They were clearing the suspect’s overgrown backyard– searching for anything which oughtn’t be there– when Grantaire felt the ground depress in a terribly familiar way.

“Hey, uh, Éponine?” he said in a high-pitched tone. “Stop moving. And, um, if you could call Bomb Squad? That’d be great.”

“Jesus _Christ_ , Grantaire,” she shouted, and then called Bomb Squad immediately.

“You really can’t get enough of me, can you?” murmured the smooth voice on the other end of his earwig. “I suspected you might call after being completely asleep all through breakfast, but this is going a little far for my attention, don’t you think?”

Grantaire huffed, a vaguely amused sound he managed somehow without actually moving his face. “Enjolras, when I get off this bomb, I’m going to make you all the breakfast you can eat. Just get me there first.”

“I think I’ll go without being poisoned for now, thanks for the offer,” Enjolras countered breezily.

“If you two could stop flirting, I would be a lot less tempted to shoot you both,” Éponine warned them. Grantaire almost smiled.

“Ah, but if you shoot him, the bomb will go off. And then where would you be?” said Enjolras wisely.

“Probably in a better place,” Grantaire muttered ruefully, looking around at the tangled weeds and grass.

“Yes, and if not that, at least a more peaceful place,” Éponine agreed. “All right, where’s this bomb?”

The bomb was buried in a shallow grave below a pile of leaves and branches that might’ve been a bush in a past life. Éponine disinterred it skillfully and retreated, slowly retracing her steps.

“All right, now tell me what you see,” said Enjolras calmly.

“It looks like a black bloody box,” Grantaire replied, rather less calmly. “Like one of those cheap cashboxes people use at yard sales.”

“Well, open it up, then,” Enjolras instructed.

He did, and let out a slow whistle at the mass of wires twisting around each other in the box. There was no timer, which was unsettling and went against all of Grantaire’s preconceived notions of what bombs looked like. How did Enjolras deal with this all the time?

Then Enjolras said, “Describe it for me,” and Grantaire let out a hysterical giggle.

“Or I could take a picture,” he said. “That might be easier for the both of us.”

“That’s a good idea, Grantaire. Do that.”

He did so as Éponine complained that she was missing her coffee break due to this nonsense. “Hurry it up,” she told them impatiently, smiling a bit to show that she was (mostly) joking. “You guys are so slow, you’re going to get me exploded.”

“You disarm it, then, if you’re so clever,” Grantaire teased.

Enjolras panicked a bit at that. “Do not. Don’t try to disarm the bomb without me telling you which wires to cut. Bad things will occur,” he ordered firmly.

“I wasn’t really going to let her, darling, we’re not the ones who get paid for this shit,” Grantaire explained. Then a thought occurred to him. “Do you suppose we could get hazard pay for this? I mean, I’m a weight-shift away from being dust on the wind. You’d think we’d get some compensation for that.”

“First of all, if you shift your weight right now, I will eviscerate you in the afterlife,” Éponine announced, “and second, we already have hazard pay included in our salary. Comes from that whole ‘getting shot at more or less monthly’ thing.”

“True,” admitted Grantaire. “Very well, tell me what to do, Enjolras.”

“Cut the blue wire,” Enjolras said earnestly.

“You’re a dick,” responded Grantaire, equally sincerely.

“What? What’s wrong?” Éponine demanded, annoyed.

“All the wires are fucking blue,” Grantaire informed her.

“I’m sorry, that was meant to be a joke,” Enjolras confessed. “I’m not very good at them.”

“No kidding,” Éponine muttered. Grantaire shot her a look which was a strange mix of expressions, somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“Thank you, Éponine,” Enjolras said tartly. “Now, Grantaire, hear me out before doing anything, because you’ll have to cut these wires in quick succession if you do it right.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Bomb Babe, sir,” Grantaire quipped, resisting the urge to shift his weight to his other foot. “I wait upon your every word as a landscape freshly made for you, with mountains of anticipation and lakes of admiration.”

“If only,” replied Enjolras dryly. “All right. You see the wire going in to the top left corner? That’s the ignition wire. _Do not_ pull it out yet.”

“I didn’t!” Grantaire protested, who had been about to.

“Uh huh,” said Enjolras, unimpressed. “Right next to that on the right is the failsafe. And under that– do you see where the especially twisted wire goes in? That’s the connection to your pressure plate. What you have to do is clip the failsafe, then the plate’s connection, then the ignition. And you have to do it very quickly, but I know you can do that. You have quick fingers.”

“There are _things_ I do not need to _know_ about my partner and his boyfriend’s love life!” Éponine cried.

“Haven’t you ever seen him play guitar?” Enjolras asked innocently. “Anyway, Grantaire, you do that– failsafe, pressure plate, ignition– and then we can go out for pizza for lunch, my treat. You want olives or anchovies today?”

“Neither, thanks, I know you know how I like my pizza,” Grantaire replied, gamely ignoring Éponine's howl of frustration. “All right, everyone shut up for a minute. I’m doing this.”

Enjolras and Éponine obediently fell into silence and waited for either him to say they could speak again or for an explosion. Neither came, and Éponine stood on tiptoes to see whether Grantaire had managed to cut all the wires.

“Are you done yet?” she asked impatiently.

“Oh, yeah,” Grantaire grinned. “I just wanted to see how long I could make you two stay quiet.”

“You are a terrible person,” Enjolras informed him. Éponine threw a dandelion in Grantaire’s direction.

He cackled, then drew in a slow breath. “I’m getting off the murder device now.”

“You do that,” Éponine said, and he did.

“Is he alive?” asked Enjolras warily, when no sounds came over the line.

“We _all_ are, thanks for asking,” answered Éponine sharply.

Grantaire let out a gust of air in a long sigh and said, “How about that pizza?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com)!


End file.
